


make it even

by Jules1398



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Éponine, Set in America bc idk anything about France, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 09:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16083782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1398/pseuds/Jules1398
Summary: If drunk Marius was going to throw up on anyone's shoes while he was with Enjolras, why did they have to be Grantaire's?





	make it even

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw i finished this bitch  
> it's based on this prompt i saw somewhere that was literally just "sorry my roommate puked on your shoes" which was perfect bc I wanted to write Enjolras, Marius, and Éponine all sharing an apartment.  
> [catch me on tumblr!!!](http://chloevlntine.tumblr.com/)

Enjolras hated parties. He found them to be a complete waste of time, especially since he refused to participate in underage drinking. If he was going to get arrested, it was going to be for protesting their shitty government or the school’s terrible policies, not for a glass of wine.

Unfortunately, Marius loved parties. Usually, it wasn’t too much of a problem since he would just go with his girlfriend, but he and Cosette had been fighting for the past week. Naturally, he wanted to get drunk because he was dramatic and had terrible coping mechanisms. Éponine had taken Marius out the previous night for McDonald’s and a long talk about relationships, so it fell upon Enjolras as their other roommate to take care of him.

He kind of wished they could have switched, but he was terrible with relationship talks, though, Éponine must not be much better seeing as they had not yet convinced Marius to actually talk to Cosette and fix whatever stupid thing they were fighting about.

Enjolras had lost track of how long they had been at the party, which was hosted by some fraternity that he didn’t really care about. He supposed they had been there long enough. He should find Marius so that they could head home.

Having no idea where to start, Enjolras cursed himself for not staying by his friend’s side in the first place. He found Courfeyrac, their friend from ABC, the club of which Enjolras was president, dancing among the crowd. Maybe he had seen Marius somewhere.

“Courfeyrac!” he shouted over the music once he had made his way over to him.

“Enjolras!” Courfeyrac exclaimed before pressing a disgustingly sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I’ve never seen you at a party before!”

“I’m here to babysit Marius,” he replied. “The problem is I can’t seem to find him.”

“Not a very good babysitter then, huh,” Courfeyrac laughed. “I saw him heading upstairs earlier.”

“How long ago?” Enjolras asked.

“I don’t know, bro. All time is fake!” he answered. “Dance with me?”

He shook his head. “I need to find Marius. I’ll talk to you at the meeting on Monday.”

“See you later!” he exclaimed before turning around and continuing to dance.

Enjolras made his way upstairs. There was probably a bathroom up there, which was likely where he would find his roommate.

Except, before he could reach the bathroom, he glanced into one of the rooms and saw Cosette, looking a little disheveled and smiling widely.

He walked inside, half expecting to find Marius somewhere in the room with her, but she was alone.

“Enjolras, have you ever been in love?” she asked, a dreamy look on her face.

“Not really,” he replied with a shrug. He was too focused on changing the world to waste his time and money on dating. There were more important things at stake.

She giggled, obviously drunk. “That must be why you’re so uptight. You ought to try being in love some time. It’s absolutely marvellous.”

“So I’m guessing you’ve seen Marius?” he asked.

Cosette clasped her hands over her heart and fell back onto the mattress. “Oh, Marius, my one true love? Yes, I’ve seen him.” She giggled some more. “Oh, I’ve certainly seen him.”

“And you made up?” he inquired.

She nodded. “I don’t even remember why we were fighting, but we’re in love so who cares! Nothing is more important to me than him and I can tell he feels the same.”

Enjolras silently wondered if being that obsessed with someone was healthy.

“Where did he go?” Enjolras asked her.

“He went outside to call Éponine and tell them the news,” she replied. “I think he was gonna tell you too, but you already know!”

“Do you need help getting home?” He didn’t particularly want to walk her back to her dorm, but he needed to make sure she was safe before leaving.

Cosette shook her head. “Musichetta is here somewhere. We’ll walk back to our room together.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he told her before heading back down the stairs and out the front door.

Sure enough, Marius was outside. He was talking animatedly with someone that Enjolras could quite see in the dark.

He began walking briskly toward his roommate, but before he could reach him, Marius promptly leaned over and vomited all over the other man’s shoes.

Enjolras broke out into a run, pulling Marius away from the guy. Marius turned toward him and wrapped him in a giant hug. God, he was a clingy drunk.

“I’m so sorry, he’s wasted and-” Enjolras finally looked up to meet the man’s eyes only to find that Marius’ poor victim was  _ Grantaire  _ of all people.

Grantaire and Enjolras had never been particularly close, but Enjolras wouldn’t quite go so far to say he disliked the other man. Sure, he found him extremely annoying and wished that he could kick him out of ABC, but that didn’t exactly count as hatred. Grantaire definitely had good sides as well, particularly his backside.

“Enjolras? I never thought I’d see you at a party, seeing as you’re opposed to fun,” Grantaire said.

“You call that fun?” Enjolras raised an eyebrow as he pointed to Grantaire’s possibly ruined combat boots.

Grantaire looked him straight in the eye and said, “Yes.”

“I hope you find attempting to get the smell out equally as thrilling,” he replied. “And getting home in them.”

“Why are you at a party anyway?” Grantaire asked. “I mean, you’re obviously not drunk, so what’s the point.”

He nodded toward Marius, who was now laying on the grass and staring up at the night sky, which was practically starless due to light pollution. “He and Cosette had a brief fight so I was forced to watch him.”

“Éponine should have done it,” he remarked. “If they had been in charge of keeping track of Marius then maybe my favorite boots wouldn’t be covered in his puke.”

“I can buy you a new pair of boots,” Enjolras offered. He hated to spend money on someone like Grantaire, but it was only right.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah, it’s not your fault.”

“I mean if I would have watched him more closely, then this wouldn’t have happened,” he pointed out. “There has to be something I can do for you to make up for the boots.”

“Man, you really want to buy me new shoes, huh,” he chuckled. 

“I just feel bad,” Enjolras replied. In reality, he didn’t want to feel like he owed Grantaire something. If he did something for him, then they would be even.

The other man hummed for a moment. “Well, if you really want to do something for me then you can come over and help me edit my government midterm tomorrow.”

Enjolras blinked for a moment. “ _ You’re  _ taking government?”

“It’s a graduation requirement, Apollo,” Grantaire replied with a roll of his eyes. 

“So, when should I come over?” he asked.

Grantaire shrugged. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“You have my number?” he asked, eyebrows raised. The two of them had never texted before and ABC communicated as a group via email.

“I live with Courfeyrac. I’ll get it from him,” he replied. “I have some boots to clean. See you then.”

Grantaire sloshed toward the house and Enjolras turned toward Marius, hauling him up off the ground.

“Time to go,” he instructed, pulling his roommate in the direction of their apartment.

“I want to see Cosette again,” Marius whined. “I love her so very much and I really missed her this past week.”

“You’re wasted. You puked on Grantaire’s shoes. It’s time to go home,” Enjolras argued.

“Since when do you care so much about R?” Marius asked. “I mean, like you’re going to his apartment tomorrow even though I’m the one who threw up on his boots.”

“And I’m the one who’s responsible for you right now. I owed it to him,” he explained.

Marius shrugged. “I mean, he didn’t seem to care all that much, but I guess if you say so. But like, if you’re doing it because you like him then you should just go for it, bro. Love is the most amazing feeling in the world. The day I saw Cosette I truly knew-”

Enjolras tuned him out as they continued on home, not caring enough to pay attention to Marius drunkenly gushing about his girlfriend. He only agreed to help Grantaire so they’d be even. The situations were impossible to compare.

* * *

He made a point to wake up early so that he would be available in case Grantaire texted him in the morning. It wasn’t until after he had hopped into the shower that he realized that the other man was still out partying when he and Marius went home, so he probably wouldn’t be awake until noon at the very earliest.

After he got out of the shower he toweled his hair dry and got dressed before heading toward the kitchen to figure out what he wanted to eat for breakfast.

Éponine was sitting on the counter and sipping from a mug of coffee when he walked in. They raised an eyebrow when they saw him.

“Enjolras up this early on a Sunday? I never thought I’d see the day,” they joked. “Especially after you spent last night in Marius duty.”

“This is half because of Marius duty and have because of my own stupidity,” Enjolras said with a sigh as he filled up the kettle and set it on the stove. “I could have probably gotten away with sleeping a few more hours.”

“Why are you making water? I already made coffee.” Éponine asked. “And please explain this whole situation.”

“I would never drink coffee so long as there’s tea in the cabinets,” he replied with a grimace. “And you’re going to make fun of me for the situation because it could have been easily avoided. Why are you up anyway?”

“I run in the mornings,” they said with a shrug. “You only didn’t know that because you’re never awake.”

“Oh,” he replied, reaching into the cabinet to grab his favorite mug only to find that it wasn’t there. “Where’s my red mug?”

“Marius used it yesterday so it’s in the dishwasher,” they told him. “And I won’t make fun of you. I promise.”

“Christ, why can’t Marius use his own things?” Enjolras grumbled, instead grabbing a faded Star Wars mug from the cabinet and setting it on the counter. He returned to their conversation. “You will make fun of me. That’s who you are.”

Éponine crossed their arms. “I resent that statement. I am a wonderful, kind human being.”

“Yes, a wonderful, kind human being who likes to harass their friends,” he amended, placing an earl gray tea bag in his mug.

“It’s playful teasing!” Éponine protested.

“Are we even friends anyway?” he asked. “Or are we just Marius’ friends that he manipulated into living with his messy ass.”

Éponine kicked him in the thigh and he yelped. “Stop trying to piss me off so I forget what we’re talking about. Tell me what happened.”

“I wasn’t exactly keeping the best eye on Marius at the party-” he began.

“Wait, then what did you do?” they asked. “Enjolras, you don’t even drink? And you hate drunk people!”

“I made an outline for my Political Philosophy paper on my phone,” he admitted. “I figured if I was stranded then I might as well be productive.”

“Nerd,” they laughed. “Please, continue. You failed to do your one job and what happened.”

“Did you hear Marius and Cosette got back together?” Enjolras asked.

“Yeah, he called me last night,” Éponine replied. “He said he was going to find you and tell you next.”

“Well, I was the one who eventually found him, very unfortunately throwing up on somebody’s shoes,” he told them.

Éponine’s jaw dropped. “No! Did you know the person or was it just some stranger?”

He winced. “It was Grantaire.”

The kettle chose that moment to start whistling and he kind of agreed with it because he too wanted to scream at the memory of having to face Grantaire after Marius had vomited all over his nice boots.

They broke down into laughter and slid off the countertop as Enjolras turned off the stove and grabbed the kettle.

“It’s not funny,” he said as he poured the water in his cup.

“So he vomited over the shoes of the guy that you have an unreasonable amount of sexual tension with?” they said. “I’m sorry Enjolras, but this is definitely slightly funny.”

“We do  _ not  _ have sexual tension,” Enjolras sputtered. “Why the hell would you even think that? Grantaire is unmotivated and incredibly obnoxious. Even if I did find him to be attractive, not saying that I do, there is no way we could get along long enough to do something like  _ that _ .”

Éponine pretended to check an invisible watch on their watch and then looked up to Enjolras with wide eyes. “Oh? Are you done talking about Grantaire yet?”

“Fuck you,” Enjolras replied with a roll of his eyes.

“So what does Marius puking on R’s shoes have to do with you getting up early on a Sunday?” they asked.

“I wanted to make it up to him so I’m helping him edit a government paper,” Enjolras sighed. “I don’t know why I was so insistent on making things even. I got up early for nothing, though. He’ll probably be asleep for a few more hours.”

“Insistent on making things even,” Éponine repeated with a shake of their head. “Enjolras, for someone with so many grand ideas, you’re really blind to yourself.”

“I don’t like him like that. He’s annoying,” Enjolras gritted out. “I’m going to go drink this in my room.”

He grabbed his mug of tea and marched toward his bedroom, instantly regretting not putting honey in it first. Well, it was too late for that now.

* * *

Grantaire ended up texting him around 2 and Enjolras headed right over to his apartment, ignoring the smirk Éponine was giving him as he walked out. Marius was nowhere in sight as he was making up with Cosette, likely in her dorm room.

He knew where the other man’s apartment was, as he was good friends with two of his roommates, Courfeyrac and Combeferre. Joly also lived with them and was part of ABC, but they weren’t as close.

Grantaire’s apartment was just off-campus, so Enjolras opted for taking the 25 minute walk rather than driving. He and Marius both had cars, but the latter had driven to his girlfriend’s apartment and Enjolras figured that if he didn’t exactly need his car then he could leave it in case Éponine needed to go somewhere.

Once he got there, he rang the doorbell so that Grantaire could buzz him up.

“Enjolras!” exclaimed a voice from the box. It was Courfeyrac.

He sighed and pressed the button again, this time speaking to his friend. “Hi, Courf, could you buzz me in?”  
There was a buzzing sound and the door unlocked. He opened it and went up to the third floor, making his way to the apartment.

The door was already open when he got there and Courfeyrac sprang out before he could go inside, wrapping him in a warm hug. “I didn’t expect to see you today, man. I missed you.”

“I saw you last night,” Enjolras pointed out.

“Yeah, for like two seconds!” he exclaimed. “You, me, Combeferre. Movie night. Thursday.”

“Don’t you have an exam on Friday?” Enjolras asked.

He shrugged. “If I don’t know the information by Thursday night I won’t know it by the exam anyway. Besides, Ferre is going home next weekend, so we can’t do it then.”

“Text me later and we can figure it out, okay?” he said. “Just fair warning if we do it at my place we might have three extras.”

“Oh, Marius and Cosette have resolved things then?” he asked. “I thought they would. They’re truly meant for each other but sometimes their hearts are so big that they think they’re not worthy of the other and then they get into fights.”

“Are you the only one home?” Enjolras asked, confused as to why he had yet to see Grantaire.

“Combeferre is grocery shopping and Joly went out with Bossuet and Musichetta,” Courfeyrac replied. “I think Grantaire is in his room. At least, I haven’t seen him leave. He’s just quiet.”

“Okay, well I’m going to go in there then. I’ll talk to you later, Courf,” Enjolras said, pushing his way inside.

Courfeyrac gave him a weird look. “You’re going back to Grantaire’s room?”

“Yes. I’m helping him with a paper,” he replied. “Is it so weird that I would be helping one of my peers?”

“No, I just didn’t know that you two talked,” he clarified.

“We don’t,” Enjolras said, deadpan.

Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows. “Well, okay then. You should probably go in there and help him then.”

Enjolras nodded and walked down the hall, finding Grantaire’s room by process of elimination. He knew where Courfeyrac and Joly’s rooms were, as they had signs on their doors, and Enjolras had been in Combeferre’s room before.

He knocked on the door rather than just entering, figuring that it would be rude to just walk in.

“Who is it?”

“Enjolras,” he replied.

“Come in,” called Grantaire’s muffled voice on the other side, so he entered the room slowly, softly closing the door behind him.

The other man was painting something, seemingly a portrait of Courfeyrac. It was faceless and mostly bald, but it was evidently still a work in progress.

“Why are you painting a portrait of-” Enjolras began, but Grantaire dropped his brush and smacked a hand over Enjolras’ mouth.

“What the hell?” he asked after Grantaire removed his hand.

“His birthday is next month,” the painter said in a low voice. “I’m broke, so I figured I’d make him something nice.”

“Well, it looks lovely,” he told him. “Except for the terrifying lack of facial features and the incomplete head of hair, but I suppose you’re still working on that.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire muttered. 

Shit, Enjolras had made things awkward, hadn’t he? But then again, things were always either awkward or tense between the two of them. Sometimes both.

“So,” Enjolras began, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “This paper. What’s it about?”

“Dr. Valjean told us we could write five to eight about anything relating to government as long as we construct a good argument and use some of the knowledge that we’ve learned,” Grantaire explained. “I swear, half the class is just writing about the last election. It’s over now. Give it a rest.”

“I think that there’s more than enough to talk about with the last election and I feel that it’s important to talk about,” he said through gritted teeth, suddenly remembering why he found Grantaire so incredibly obnoxious. “Additionally, we have to protest unfair governmental acts or else we will never bring about the change that this country so desperately needs.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “If you’re done you can read through my paper so that you can give me feedback and then go.”

He handed Enjolras an open laptop that contained his seven page essay. It was titled “The First Amendment is Failing: Why Peaceful Protest is Pointless.”

Enjolras glanced up from the laptop to meet Grantaire’s eyes. “Is this a joke? Did you write a full-length essay just to piss me off?”

“If you’re not going to read through it and help me edit it, then you can leave,” Grantaire replied. “Did you expect me to write a government paper that aligns perfectly with your views despite the fact that you know we think differently?”

He shook his head and continued to read the paper, which gave various examples of failed protests throughout history, citing both domestic and foreign protests. Numerous examples that he had given also resulted in the deaths of some of those protesting peacefully. He tied up the essay talking about current protests and how the government was still growing more and more conservative, gearing up to strip away the rights of those who had spent years upon years fighting for them.

“This is fucking depressing,” Enjolras said after he had finished reading. “How can you be so hopeless about our future?”

“I’m just being realistic,” he shrugged. “Everyone thinks they can make a difference and very few people actually can.”

“Even if I don’t exactly agree with what you’re saying, the paper is phenomenal,” he admitted. “You’re incredibly knowledgeable about these things for an art major. I’ve left a few minor comments on the document but, all in all, there’s not much that I think you should change other than your entire point of view, but that’s not going to happen.”

“Of course I’m knowledgeable about this. I’ve been in your club for the past three years,” Grantaire pointed out. “Do you think I attend the meetings for the Musain’s overpriced coffee?”

“I mean, I guess I still don’t understand why you attend the meetings at all,” Enjolras replied. “If you don’t think anyone can make a difference, why join a club full of people that are trying to accomplish just that.”

“I said that very few people can make a difference,” Grantaire amended.

“Do you see yourself as among the few?” Enjolras asked. He was confused at this point. Grantaire had always seemed bored at the meetings other than when he made a point to argue with Enjolras.

Grantaire chuckled. “No way. I’m an artist, not a revolutionary. I don’t believe that stupid ABC club is going to make any sort of difference.”

“I don’t get it,” he said. “Then what’s the point if you don’t really believe in any of this?”

“After we graduate and everyone finds themselves along different career paths, I think one of us will be able to make a real difference in the world,” Grantaire explained. “Enjolras, it’s not your club or your protests that I believe in. It’s you.”

Enjolras blinked. “I thought you hated me, though.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “You thought I hated you?”

“You argue with me at like every single ABC meeting,” he reasoned. “Some days it’s like I can’t talk for five minutes without you interrupting.”

“If I didn’t like you I wouldn’t waste my time challenging your opinions,” Grantaire told him. “I mean when I give input it often works against what you’re saying, but it lets you see other perspectives and keeps the conversation going.”

“I never saw it that way,” Enjolras muttered. “I’m sorry if I was rude to you in the past. I didn’t know you were arguing for the benefit of the larger group.”

“Also I like when you get fired up,” Grantaire added.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “If you’re trying to get me fired up right now, it isn’t going to work.”

“Thank you for reading over my paper,” he said. “Even if you didn’t make a lot of changes, it’s nice to have a second set of eyes read over it. Especially when it’s someone as smart as you.”

“It was the least I could do,” Enjolras replied with a smile. “Now we’re even for the shoes thing.”

“That wasn’t your fault but I washed my boots out and now they’re drying,” Grantaire told him. “So, if anything, I still owe you.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t want anything of you, Grantaire.”

The other man nodded. “Well, if you ever do need anything, I’m here for you,” Grantaire promised.

“Thank you,” Enjolras replied, managing a smile.

* * *

“He said that he argues with me for  _ my  _ benefit. And that he’s only in the club because he believes in me. Not because he cares about what we’re doing,” Enjolras complained to Éponine, who had come to the Musain early with him to get everything arranged for the weekly ABC meeting.

They gave him a confused look. “Wait, what exactly is the problem here?” they asked. “Because when you say those words what I hear is ‘he genuinely cares about me but I’m emotionally stunted so I have to attempt to take it the wrong way.’ Honestly, Enjolras, it’s okay for people to actually like you despite how difficult you make it.”

He sputtered for a moment. “I do  _ not  _ make liking me difficult. And the problem is I just don’t understand him. He doesn’t believe in my cause but he believes in me? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that he likes you,” Éponine insisted. “You’re ambitious, hard-working, and stubborn. I think most of us believe that you’re going to do some good in this world one day.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t buy it. There has to be more to it. I am by no measure a remarkable guy. In fact, I’m kind of a mess. I mean, you live with me, surely you can testify to this.”

“Yeah, but Grantaire hasn’t seen you eat a cold chicken nugget off the floor at two in the morning,” they pointed out. “Besides, I don’t think he would care even if he had seen you do anything remotely as disgusting as that. He likes you, and not like Marius and I like you.”

“Are you insinuating that he has a crush on me?” Enjolras asked. “Because if you are, that’s probably the most ridiculous thought you’ve ever had. And you used to have a thing for  _ Marius _ .”

Éponine whacked him on the head. “You are a likeable person, Enjolras. Why is it so hard to believe that someone could have feelings for someone.”

He sighed and slumped back against the wall. “Éponine we’ve been living together for over a year now. Tell me, how many dates have I gone on? How many people have I brought home?”

“None, but-” the began.

“None,” he confirmed. “And I say it’s because I’m busy and that’s definitely part of it but at the same time, who would want to be with someone like me?”

“Explain what you mean by someone like you,” they requested.

“As you’ve said, I’m not very in touch with my emotions,” he began. “And on top of that, my studies and my cause will always come first. I’m not dating material.”

“Tell me this,” Éponine replied, “in theory, would you want to be in a relationship with someone?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Would you like to be in in a relationship with him?” they asked.

And, well, that was never something that he had considered. Sure, he found Grantaire to be attractive, but their incessant arguing would make a relationship impossible, even if the other man did have feelings for him.

“Éponine, it would never work,” he argued.

“That’s not what I asked,” they pointed out.

In that moment, a group of their friends finally wandered into the room, including the man in question. Grantaire was wearing tattered jeans and a fading t-shirt with paint on it. He had studio on Monday afternoons if Enjolras had remembered correctly. Sometimes he didn’t have time to change afterward. His hair looked as it would be soft if he were to run his fingers through it, even after a day’s worth of classes and painting. His face was clean-shaven where there had been stubble the day prior. Enjolras wondered if he would grow it out a little again or keep shaving the hair off.

“Enjolras?” Éponine said. “I’m still waiting on your answer.”

“I-” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do know,” they replied. “You just aren’t able to admit it yet.”

Éponine walked away to sit with Cosette and Marius while Enjolras just kind of stood there, lost in his thoughts.

Luckily, he wasn’t able to dwell on it too long, because Combeferre and Courfeyrac approached him.

“Are you still down for movie night on Thursday?” Courfeyrac asked.

“Definitely,” he replied before quickly adding. “I can host.”

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because we were just talking to Marius and he said that he was having Cosette’s dad over for dinner that night.”

Enjolras was going to kill Marius. He had no idea what he was doing and it wasn’t his fault, but still.

“Besides, we’ll have the apartment to ourselves,” Courfeyrac piped in.

“Oh?” he said. He didn’t exactly want to avoid Grantaire at all costs, but the easiest way to not think about him was to not see him more than usual.

He nodded. “Bossuet has joined a bowling league, though I can’t begin to understand why seeing as he can’t hit a pin to save his life, and Joly is going to support him since it’s the first week.”

“And what about Grantaire?” Enjolras asked as casually as possible. He rarely left his room when Enjolras was over anyway. He didn’t know why he was so anxious about it.

“Jehan has a poetry slam and he’s going for moral support,” Combeferre explained. “I think Bahorel and Feuilly are going as well. If you’d rather go to that, I’m definitely fine with it. I think it would be rather pleasant.”

“Combeferre, I am going to make you watch  _ Saw _ if I have to tie you to a chair, I swear to god,” Courfeyrac snapped. “It’s my favorite movie so you’re just going to have to suck it up, despite your unfair hatred of the horror genre!”

“I don’t want to watch  _ Saw _ either,” Enjolras told his friend. “I’m not much of a fan of gory movies.”

“It’s my turn to pick!” Courfeyrac exclaimed. “And I’m not watching another one of your historical movies, Enjolras. If I cared about history, I wouldn’t have skipped class so much last semester.”

“History is important,” Combeferre argued. “We need to learn from it in order to avoid making the same mistakes that our ancestors did.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Enjolras asked. “It’s time to start the meeting.”

“There’s nothing to talk about since it’s my turn but sure,” Courfeyrac replied, dragging his roommate away to leave Enjolras in front of the others.

He began the meeting as he always had and nothing uncharacteristic really happened, other than when Grantaire argued with him, things didn’t really get heated. The debate was more friendly than fiery.

Maybe he had misjudged him. And maybe, though he didn’t want to think too much about it, Éponine was right

* * *

Movie nights were sacred for Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac. They always rotated who chose the movie and there was always popcorn, candy, and soda for their consumption. After it was over they chatted about the movie and life, but between the time play was pressed and the credits rolled, not a word was spoken. Outsiders were occasionally allowed to join them, but breaking any of their rules would result in being kicked into another room until the movie had ended.

This week was Courfeyrac’s turn and they were going to have to watch whatever he chose. Luckily, he had backed down from  _ Saw _ in favor of some movie about rollerblading that Enjolras had already forgotten the name of. It was bound to be cheesy and uninteresting, as most of Courfeyrac’s chosen movies were. At least Combeferre had similar film preferences to Enjolras.

They started the movie around six so that Courfeyrac would be able to sleep well before his exam the following day. It was Combeferre’s idea since he seemed to care more about Courfeyrac’s grades than he did.

It was alright. The movie was very Courfeyrac, which meant that Enjolras wasn’t very invested and that Combeferre was more invested in staring at Courfeyrac as he watched the movie, but it wasn’t the worst movie that they had watched together.

And then Grantaire came home halfway through the movie. Enjolras had figured Jehan’s thing would have taken longer, but he supposed that it was a school night. Still, he couldn’t help but be entranced by the other man as he walked on, the conversation he had with Éponine the other day still on his mind.

Grantaire smiled when he saw him. “Hey,” he greeted.

“Shhh!” replied Courfeyrac.

“Hi, Grantaire,” Enjolras greeted quietly before he could think.

“Shhhhh!” Courfeyrac said, louder this time. Combeferre was glaring at him too.

Grantaire gave them the thumbs up and walked down the hallway to his room. Once he had shut the door, Enjolras turned to his friends.

“I thought he was going to be gone while I was here,” he whispered.

Combeferre shrugged. “Guess it ended early. Why are you so concerned about him lately? You two are ridiculous sometimes.”

“I’m not concerned about him,” he lied.

“Shut up!” Courfeyrac exclaimed.

They sat for a moment and continued to watch the movie until the full impact of Combeferre’s words hit him.

“Wait, has he been asking about me?” Enjolras asked quietly.

Courfeyrac slammed his bowl of popcorn to the ground and grabbed the remote off the counter to pause the movie before turning to Enjolras.

“Out,” he ordered.

“I want to hang out with you guys!” he protested. “We haven’t done this in so long!”

“And you’re ruining it!” Courfeyrac snapped. “No talking is like, rule number one. You can come back after the movie.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he promised.

Courfeyrac crossed his arms. “Movie night is sacred, bro.”

Enjolras looked to Combeferre for help, but he just shook his head.

“He warned you,” Combeferre pointed out. The bastard just probably wanted to stare at Courfeyrac in peace.

“Well, where should I go if we’re still going to talk after you guys finish?” he asked.

“You can chill in my-” Combeferre began.

“Grantaire is home. Why don’t you spend the evening with him?” Courfeyrac asked with a smirk. “I mean, you do seem awfully curious about him.”

God, he was going to remove every bone from Courfeyrac’s body one by one. Grantaire probably heard that, which mean that he probably knew that Enjolras was asking about him. Fuck.

“I don’t-” Enjolras began.

“Just go,” Combeferre said with a sigh. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“It’ll be fine,” Courfeyrac assured him. “We’ll come and get you when the movie is over.”

“Fine,” he said, marching down the hallway toward Grantaire room.

He knocked, just as he had last time. When there was no response, he knocked louder. He heard muffling on the other side of the door and then the door opened, revealing Grantaire with a pair of earbuds hanging from his left ear. At least he hadn’t heard their conversation.

“Weren’t you guys watching a movie?” he asked.

“They kicked me out,” he replied. “I broke our strict no talking policy and apparently two questions is entirely unacceptable.”

Grantaire chuckled. “They probably just want you gone so they can cuddle and pretend it’s just a friend thing.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Enjolras laughed. “Do you mind if I hang out with you until the movie is over. I don’t want to go home before we get a chance to chat. Me and them. Not me and you. Not that I don’t mind talking to you.”

“It’s okay. I know that I’m boring to talk to. You are welcome to hang out anyway, Apollo,” Grantaire replied, shifting to let Enjolras inside and closing the door behind him.

He sat down on Grantaire’s bed, trying to ignore the fact that is was  _ Grantaire’s bed _ . Enjolras needed to stop letting his dick think for him.

“So how was the poetry slam?” he asked.

“Jehan was good, as always,” Grantaire replied. “I left after his turn, though. It wasn’t really my scene.”

“I thought you liked that stuff, though?” Enjolras said. “Like the artsy stuff.”

“I like dealing with what I can see,” Grantaire replied. “When it’s laid out in front of you, there’s less room for confusion. A picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes a thousand words can’t paint you a picture and the meaning behind a work gets lost.”

Enjolras nodded. “I get it, but to be fair, I miss the symbolism in art too. I guess my mind is a bit too literal.”

“You’re a master with words, though,” Grantaire countered. “You give outstanding speeches and can inspire almost everyone.”

“Everyone except you, I suppose,” he replied.

A smile formed at the edge of his lips. “You’re not going to inspire everyone, but at least you can get them to listen.”

“Do you think I’m more than my beliefs?” he asked quietly. “Answer honestly. I trust you not to bullshit me, unlike most of my friends. I love them to death, but they care about others too much to give them something straight.”

“Your beliefs are a part of you, but they don’t define you,” Grantaire assured him. “And I know that seems like a generic answer, but it’s true. You place what you believe in before all else and it shows a lot about your personality, but you’re still a person. You have a ton of friends. They wouldn’t like you if you were only defined by a concept.”

He smiled, looking into the other man’s soft eyes and not finding anything but truth within them. Grantaire truly did respect him as a person.

“Do you like me?” he asked, not wanting to beat around the bush any longer. He didn’t want to waste any more time than he had on this if it was pointless anyway.

“I mean, you’re a pretty cool guy-” Grantaire began.

“That wasn’t what I asked and you know it,” Enjolras replied.

Grantaire sighed. “Yes, Enjolras. I do like you.”

“Why?” he asked. “I would be a terrible person to date.”

“So would I,” Grantaire said, though Enjolras didn’t know if that were true. He was moderately attractive and people loved artsy guys. Maybe he drank too much, but that was a solvable problem.

“I’m narcissistic and bad at feelings,” he elaborated. “Your problem is that you drink and like to play devil’s advocate, which is not nearly as bad and can change if needed.”

“You’re not narcissistic and you’re not bad at feelings,” he argued. “If you were bad at feelings, then you wouldn’t be able to deliver speeches that bring people to tears. And then there’s nothing narcissistic about trying to better your country.”

“I like you too,” he confessed. “I didn’t fully realize it until recently, but you’re a lot cooler than I gave you credit for. And I’ve always found you attractive.”

Grantaire blinked for a moment. “You have?”

“The messy artist vibe works,” Enjolras said with a smirk.

“So do you want to like go out or something?” Grantaire asked, nearly fumbling over his words.

“Sure,” he replied. “For a kiss.”

Grantaire leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Enjolras’ lips. He hadn’t been kissed in ages, but he hadn’t remembered another’s kiss feeling as right as Grantaire’s did. Their lips locked together with ease, as if they were made to be pressed together.

They parted breathlessly, smiles strewn across both of their faces.

“That was amazing,” Grantaire panted.

“Shut up and do it again,” Enjolras replied, leaning in to kiss him again and again and again and again.

They stayed on Grantaire’s bed, lazily making out until Enjolras’ phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled away and picked his phone out.

It was a text from Éponine asking him when he was going to be home and if they should lock up the house and go to bed.

The time on his phone said 11:30. His eyes widened, realizing that they had been spending a lot more time together than they had meant to.

“When did the movie end?” he asked.

Grantaire raised an eyebrow. “How would I know? I was a bit distracted?”

“I need to go,” he said. “See you on Saturday night?”

“What’s on Saturday night?” Grantaire asked.

“I’m going to take you on a date,” he announced. “The full Enjolras experience.”

The other man smiled. “I’ll see you then. Can’t wait for the full experience, if it entails what I think it might entail.”

He smiled. “We’ll see when the time comes.”

Enjolras walked out of the room and rushed into the living room. The movie was stuck on the menu and his two friends were asleep, Courfeyrac somehow snuggled into Combeferre’s arms on their incredibly small couch.

He put on his shoes and rushed out the door. He usually hated telling Éponine that they were right, but this time he actually was kind of excited to tell his roommates what had happened. Hell, Marius could take credit for them getting together in the first place. 

This never would have happened if Marius hadn’t gotten drunk and thrown up all over Grantaire’s fucking shoes.


End file.
